


Lay Down The Bet

by TanookiRoxx



Category: KISS (US Band)
Genre: 1990s, Attempt at Humor, Awkward Sexual Situations, Competition, Feeding Kink, Finger Sucking, Hand Feeding, Humor, Innuendo, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Popsicles, Reunion Tour era, Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-12
Updated: 2020-07-02
Packaged: 2021-02-27 06:21:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22222474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TanookiRoxx/pseuds/TanookiRoxx
Summary: Gene and Peter make a bet to see who can abstain from having sex with their lovers the longest, but when Paul and Ace find out, chaos ensues!Who will be victorious?
Relationships: Gene Simmons/Paul Stanley, Peter Criss/Ace Frehley
Comments: 23
Kudos: 51





	1. The Bet

Gene sat impatiently thumping his fingers on the table. Doc McGhee sat across from him with stacks of important contracts that needed to be negotiated pronto.

Doc checked his watch anxiously.

“Gene, we really should get started. If I don’t get these contracts faxed before the end of the day then we can just kiss the KISS reunion tour goodbye!”

“Damnit Peter,” Gene growled softly.

KISS was planning the ultimate comeback tour that would feature all original members. It was the first time that Paul, Gene, Ace, and Peter would perform together since the Dynasty tour of ’78. Doc predicted this would be their most successful tour ever. Tickets were selling out at record-breaking speed! KISS dominated all major media outlets. Once again ‘the hottest band in the world’ was back on top, or so it would seem. The first few band meetings had been a disaster, especially with Peter.

Peter’s ego seemed to have grown twice his size! He demanded more money and respect despite his long absence from the band. He insisted on being part of important band decisions or he was gone! Knowing well the reunion tour couldn’t happen without Peter, Doc tried to encourage Gene and Paul to meet him in the middle. After relentless arguing, Paul agreed to let Peter fill in for him at this particular meeting. Gene was quickly starting to regret this decision. 

“That’s it! I’m calling Paul,” Gene growled as he pulled out his cell phone. He had a feeling that Peter would flake.

Just before Gene could hit the call button, the door bell rang.

“Come in!” Doc called out.

Peter walked into the room where his furious band mate and anxious manager awaited him.

“Where the hell were you? You were supposed to be here two hours ago!” Gene snapped.

“I’m sorry! I got here as fast as I could,” Peter replied breathlessly as he took a seat between Gene and Doc.

“Well, now that we’re all here,” Doc began but was harshly cut off by Gene.

“Time is money, Peter! How are we supposed to take you seriously if you cannot honor your commitments? You better not have been shooting up any more drugs!” Gene accused.

Peter clenched his fists. “I’m clean, asshole! If you must know I was rehearsing with Ace. We lost track of time. I was in fact very busy today!”

“You mean, you were getting busy today,” Gene snorted.

Peter blushed. “I...I don’t know what you’re talking about!”

“Oh yeah? Check the mirror,” Gene smirked as he gestured to a mirror behind Peter.

Peter looked and was a bit surprised to find a ring of fresh hickies around his lower face and throat.

“This is why you can’t be trusted to handle important business, Peter! You can’t keep your damn ‘spoiler’ in your pants! You’re highly unprofessional!” Gene stated arrogantly.

“I know damn well you’re not referring to me!” Peter shouted as he snapped his head back in Gene’s direction.

“Tell me Gene, how many times have we had to reschedule band meetings, rehearsals and interviews all because you and Paul were going at it like a couple of rabbits!?”

“Ahem! Gentlemen, I think we should focus strictly on business,” Doc suggested.

Gene scoffed. “First of all, Paul and I have never let our relationship get in the way of important band matters. We have something special that you and Ace could never comprehend.”

“What’s to comprehend? You’re only into Paul because he reminds you of a really hot chick. Your relationship is based solely on lust. What Ace and I have is beautiful,” Peter fumed.

“Snorting cocaine out of your boyfriend’s ass is not beautiful, Peter! It just proves you’re both mental cases. If you would only just learn to exercise some self-control for once in your miserable life…”

“WHAT THE FUCK WOULD GENE SIMMONS KNOW ABOUT SELF-CONTROL!?” Peter roared.

“OK, this has gone far enough! We really need to discuss the contracts!” Doc said nervously.

“Shut up Doc!” Peter shouted. “You’ve got some damn nerve, Gene. You’re a fuckin’ poster child for STDs, for fucks sake! Every time Paul bends over backstage to lace up his boots, you’re all over him like flies on shit! I have more restraint in my little pinky than you do in your entire body!”

Gene stood up and took a step forward. “And all Ace has to do is break out into “Rocket Ride” and you’re down on your knees with your ass in the air, begging him to take you like some desperate groupie! Don’t school me on resistance when you know you damn well can’t even spell the word!”

Oh shit. He just went there.

Doc looked over at Gene in pure horror.

Peter slammed his fists on the table and stood up to meet Gene eye to eye.

Doc immediately jumped in the middle to separate the two bickering musicians before things escalated even more.

“OK, OK, I think maybe you two should take a deep breath and calm down before you both say something you’ll regret.”

“Everyone knows that Paul owns your sorry ass. Just a snap of his finger and you’d be eating his ass out like a grand buffet without hesitation!” Peter snapped.

“Eww! I did not need to hear that!” Doc whined.

“Ace could exercise more self-control in a liquor store than you. Hell, I know damn well I could!” Peter bragged.

“Said the man who injured his hand from jerking off to photos of Ace’s moose knuckle. I would be willing to bet money that I could abstain longer than you!”

“I damaged my hand from years of aggressive drumming, jackass! How about you put your money where your big mouth is and prove it then!”

“Prove what?” Gene asked with an arched eyebrow.

“Prove that the infamous sex addict Gene Simmons can exercise his so-called self-control!”

Doc face palmed. “Don’t do it, Gene!”

“I don’t have to prove anything to you, Peter! I’m the one not slacking off on my responsibilities!”

“You just said you’d be willing to bet money that you could last longer than me, well, so would I,” Peter smirked smugly.

Gene glared at Peter. His ego could never turn down a challenge, especially if money was at stake!

“Fine. I’ll do it only if you’ll abstain from sex too.”

Peter narrowed his eyes. “You’re on! This will be easy money. With Paul shaking his bubble butt in your face every chance he gets, I’ll be cashing my check first thing tomorrow morning.”

Gene smirked deviously. “You underestimate my money-making skills.”

“You can’t be serious! Guys, I think this is a terrible idea!” Doc protested.

“Stay out of it, Doc!” Peter snapped. “Alright, first person to bust a nut loses!”

Gene nodded. “We’ll need to set some ground rules. Rule number one. No sexual gratification of any kind with your partner or yourself.”

“That means no groupies too,” Doc added.

“WHAT!? HELL NO!” Gene and Peter yelled back.

“C’mon guys, how do you expect to have an abstinence contest if it doesn’t include ALL sexual partners?” Doc slyly added, hoping that this would convince Gene and Peter to abandon the contest.

Gene gritted his teeth. “Fine. No groupies.”

Peter snorted. “Yeah…yeah.”

“Rule number two. We cannot tell anyone about this contest, especially Paul and Ace. They will never let us live it down!” Gene said.

“You mean, Paul will never let YOU live it down,” Peter corrected.

Doc snickered.

“That rule applies to you as well, Doc! Don’t breathe a word about this to anyone or else!” Gene threatened.

Doc nodded. He knew better than to piss Gene off. “How the hell are you two going to judge this ridiculous contest?”

Gene and Peter both looked at Doc.

“Oh no! Keep me out of your crazy shenanigans!” Doc said, throwing his hands up in defense.

“Hmm…Well, you can’t bullshit a bullshiter! We’ve known each other long enough to know when the other is lying,” Peter suggested.

“True. Well, we do have to see each other every day for rehearsals anyway. We can touch base on each other’s progress then,” Gene reasoned.

“I can’t believe you two are actually going through with this! Are you sure this is really worth it?” Doc asked.

“Doc’s right. How much money will you be paying me, Peter?” Gene asked with a shit eating grin.

“How about the amount you’re making off this tour?” Peter asked smugly.

Gene’s grin faded into a frown. “Absolutely not!”

“Ah ha! Because you know I’ll win!” Peter taunted.

“No, because only a damn fool would dare risk that kind of money!” Gene growled.

“Just admit it, Gene. You know damn well you don’t have the balls for this competition, literally!” Peter sneered.

“Fine! When do we start this stupid thing?” Gene asked through gritted teeth and clenched fists.

“Why not right now?” Doc suggested.

Gene and Peter both fidgeted awkwardly.

“Ready to back out, boys?” Doc grinned.

Gene cleared his throat. “Actually, I believe midnight would make better sense. It would be the start a full day. The contest officially starts at midnight."

Peter chuckled. “Eager to go blow your load, Gene?”

Gene rolled his eyes. "OK, do we have a deal?"

Gene asked as he extended his hand out.

"Deal," Peter agreed as he reached out to shake Gene's hand.

After breaking the handshake both men grabbed their keys and made a mad dash out of the front door.

“Is the kitty running back to his master early?” Gene called out innocently to Peter as he got into his car.

“Fuck you, Gene! I have a life unlike you. Give my regards to Paul before he rams his love gun down your throat!” Peter called out before slamming his car door shut.

“But…but what about the contracts!?” Doc cried out helplessly from his front door as he watched Gene and Peter burn rubber out of the driveway.

…

Sunday Night.

At around 11:55PM Ace was getting the living daylights pounded out of him mercilessly.

“Ack! *gasp* Please…Cat…can’t…take…much…more!” Ace screeched as his whitened knuckles gripped tightly onto the headboard as it slammed violently into the wall. Peter was pretty sure it was going to leave a few dents but he didn’t care.

“Don’t worry, babe. I’ll make sure Tommy finds you a nice, cushioned stool to sit on for rehearsals tomorrow,” Peter panted as he continued his thrusting, craning his neck to double check the time. It read 11:59PM. Ignoring poor Ace’s cries for mercy, Peter thrusted into him harder and faster.

Ace had no idea why Peter was so randy all of a sudden. As soon as he walked through the door Peter had tackled him like an NFL quarterback and had been all over him like a cheap suit all evening. The poor Spaceman couldn’t even go to the bathroom without Peter practically humping his leg like a feral cat in heat. He wondered if Peter had secretly snorted speed earlier that day. He wished his boyfriend would have at least shared!

“Pee…ter…full…moon…Ack!…cycle…tomorrow…really…need…to…save…energy…arghhhhhhhhhh,” Ace groaned.

After one more final thrust Ace had collapsed onto the bed, passing out cold with Peter on top.

…

Gene waited impatiently in Paul’s living room.

He had spent the entire afternoon with Shannon and was ready to spend the night with his beloved boyfriend. He checked his watch. It read 11:45PM.

Gene began to panic. Paul was supposed to be home from Doc’s place an hour ago! Where the hell was he? Gene had tried calling Paul relentlessly. No answer. After the hundredth time, Paul had turned his phone off.

Fed up with waiting, Gene grabbed his car keys and was about to drive to Doc’s place until he heard the sound of the front door unlocking and opening.

“You said you were going to be home an hour ago!” Gene exclaimed as Paul entered the room.

Paul looked up at him weakly. It had been a long, exhausting day. Paul had been working nonstop to prep for the upcoming tour. He had been whisked through a whirlwind of extraneous interviews and meetings all day long. 

“Well, I would have been home sooner if you and Peter had finished those contracts earlier!” Paul snapped.

Gene looked at his watch again and then rushed over to Paul.

“You’re right, baby. I’m sorry. So sorry! Let me make it up to you,” Gene stammered as he furiously began kissing and fondling Paul.

“Gene, please, I just got home. I had a very stressful day,” Paul whined.

“And what better way to unwind than the ultimate form of relaxation,” Gene flicked his tongue out flirtatiously as he began to playfully attack Paul’s throat.

Paul giggled as he swatted his clingy boyfriend away. “Gene, C’mon, I’m not in the mood. I’m really tired tonight. I’ll be more refreshed and eager in the morning.”

“But we can’t tomorrow morning! We need to do it right now!” Gene panicked as he looked at his watch again. It read 11:50PM.

“What? Why?” Paul asked with an arched eyebrow.

Gene threw himself down on his knees in front of Paul, wrapping his arms around the slender man’s waist. He had way too much pride to beg but desperate times call for desperate measures.

“Please, please, please, Paul, I really need you soooo bad! I’ll do anything! ANYTHING!” Gene begged with desperation evident in his voice and eyes.

Paul grinned wickedly. “Mmm…Your begging really turns me on.”

Gene smirked. Bingo. He knew just how to charm the pants off his lover.

“OK, but first let me grab a quick bite to eat,” Paul said as he gently pushed passed Gene to go into the kitchen.

Gene groaned as he looked at his watch again anxiously. There was no time for this nonsense! He dashed into the kitchen, grabbing a banana from the fruit basket and shoved it in Paul’s face abrasively.

“There! Now let’s get started!”

Paul rolled his eyes. “Very funny, Gene.”

“What? I thought you were watching your weight for this tour!”

Paul went to the refrigerator to pull out a leftover sandwich. He put his sandwich on a plate and casually bent over the kitchen counter top to eat it.

Gene gasped at the display in front of him.

Paul was munching on his sandwich peacefully until he felt Gene mount him from behind. Paul’s eyes went wide as Gene was quickly working him out of his pants and underwear.

“Do you mind!?” Paul asked exasperated as he craned his neck to look back at Gene.

“No, I don’t mind at all,” Gene grunted as he began to thrust.

“I’m trying to finish my sandwich!” Paul whined as Gene sped up his thrusts.

“Don’t let me stop you,” Gene panted.

Paul wanted to protest but Gene continued thrusting harder and faster.

“Ahh…ahh...ohhhhh…Gene…ohh...yes...ahhh!” Paul was panting heavily, holding on the counter top sides for dear life.

Gene craned his neck to see the kitchen clock read 11:59PM. He grabbed Paul’s hips and began to pound into him ruthlessly, crushing Paul into the kitchen island.

Paul practically howled out the opening ‘Ohs’ to “Heaven’s On Fire” as he clenched and came with a mighty force. Gene followed right behind, gasping loudly, grinding himself further into Paul. Paul’s eyes rolled in the back of his head as he slowly slid off the counter top onto the floor.

Gene took a few deep breathes and looked up to the clock once more. It was midnight. Instinctively, Gene grabbed his phone and dialed Peter’s number.

It rang and rang and rang until reaching voicemail.

Gene grinned like a mob boss on pay day.

He dialed the number again. Peter picked up on the second ring this time.

“Yeah? What?” he gasped out breathlessly.

“You’re late, Peter. It’s 12:01AM. Time to pay up,” Gene cooed.

“Bullshit! I was done before midnight!” Peter argued still trying to steady his breathing.

“You didn’t answer your phone at midnight and judging by your breathy voice, you were still getting off. Game over, now pay up,” Gene growled.

“What the fuck!? Your logic is complete shit! I was trying to find my phone in the pile of clothes on the floor, thank you very much!” Peter growled back.

“Sure, you were…”Gene trailed off.

“Ok, smart guy, how do I know you weren’t a minute late?” Peter fired back.

“What? I called you at midnight! Obviously, I finished before,” Gene spat.

“Not necessarily. You could have still easily finished right at midnight,” Peter reasoned.

“I did not! Just admit that you lost and pay up already! You’re always such a sore loser, Peter!” Gene snapped.

“Prove it with actual evidence, asshole!” Peter snapped.

Gene growled as he ran a hand down his face. Peter did have a valid point.

“Hmph! Fine! I guess there really is no way to determine if either of us were a minute late,” Gene admitted.

“Guess not but it's game on now, motherfucker!” Peter yelled as he hung up the phone.

Gene rolled his eyes. He wasn’t worried. He figured Peter would forget about the contest or just simply give in tomorrow. Yes, he’d receive his king’s ransom tomorrow afternoon at rehearsals. Gene smirked at such a delicious thought. Life was good.

Gene looked down and noticed that Paul was still lying face down on the kitchen floor.

“Paul? You OK?” Gene asked as he gently poked him with his foot.

The sound of faint snoring echoed within the kitchen. Satisfied that he was at least still breathing, Gene helped himself to the rest of Paul’s sandwich.


	2. Day One

Gene completed his regular morning routine as usual. He showered, shaved and dressed for the day. As he was finishing getting dressed, he could smell the delicious aroma of freshly cooked food from all the way upstairs. With a growling stomach, he descended the stairs eagerly.

“Gooooood morning!” Paul cheered with a huge radiant smile as Gene entered the kitchen.

Gene couldn’t believe his eyes.

There stood Paul and behind him was a smorgasbord of deliciously cooked foods. The demon was in heaven. Paul never cooked that much food unless it was a special occasion. Gene tried to think if there were any upcoming holidays.

“What’s the occasion?” Gene grinned, eyeing the chocolate muffin in Paul’s hand.

“Do I need an occasion to spoil my demon?” Paul purred as he pushed the gooey chocolate pastry into Gene’s mouth.

Gene accepted Paul’s offer, licking the excess chocolate off Paul’s fingers in the process.

Paul giggled. “Mmm…last night was really hot, Gene.” He smirked as he slid his index finger into Gene’s mouth.

“Hmm?” Gene hummed, feeling Paul beckon his finger in a ‘come hither’ like motion within his mouth. Gene drooled at the erotic sensation.

“Yesssss. I loved how badly you needed me last night. It was hot seeing you so needy and lusty for me and only me,” Paul smirked as he worked another finger into Gene’s mouth.

“The way you unabashedly took control of me in the kitchen, it was like a wild alpha claiming his mate,” Paul panted at the thought of last night’s steamy encounter.

Gene’s eyes widened as Paul pushed an eager third finger into his mouth. He couldn’t do anything but suck on them as Paul moved them in and out of his mouth sensually.

“I’m the sexiest man alive. You want me so damn bad it hurts, donchya?” Paul grinned wickedly, working his fingers in and out of his lover’s mouth at much faster pace.

Gene nodded his head obediently.

“Mmmm…good boy. You deserve a special treat. Perhaps a taste of something sweet and eight inches?” Paul cooed, rubbing his erection against Gene’s leg.

Gene started to panic. He hoped that Paul would have been too focused on their upcoming rehearsal today to want to shag again so soon. His eyes darted around the room nervously, looking for a way to distract Paul. Suddenly, Gene’s stomach growled again but much louder this time. Paul snickered as he took his fingers out of Gene’s mouth and ceased his leg humping.

“Well, I don’t want to lose any important body parts so I’ll let you have your breakfast first,” Paul winked before walking away.

Gene breathed a sigh of relief. He quietly thanked his stomach as he fixed his plate.

“Do you mind if I do my morning stretches in here?” Paul asked with a coy smile.

“Go ahead,” Gene responded with a mouthful of pancakes, keeping his eyes on the hearty helping of eggs and hash browns on his plate.

“Paul, do you have any...s…sausage?” Gene gasped.

At the exact moment he chose to look up was when Paul had bent over to touch his toes, leveling his perfect pert ass in the air at Gene’s eye level. Paul had disrobed to his light blue thong while he was stretching in front of him.

Gene’s pupils dilated at the glorious sight in front of him. Those two beautiful tan globes were neatly separated by the thin fabric. Paul had an attractive body that could not be denied, but Gene found his ass to be the most desirable part of all.

It was so round. So squeezable. So firm. So slapable. So smooth. So damn tempting.

Gene’s breath hitched as he felt a sudden inner animalistic desire to be on top of the other man. He clutched onto the table to keep himself from mounting Paul like a dog in heat. His body wanted it desperately, but his mind reminded him of the money at stake. It was truly the struggle of the century.

Paul smirked as he wiggled his ass playfully for Gene. That sexy, swaying ass in a blue thong was burning its way into the back of Gene’s retinas. If he didn’t get out of there soon, he was bound to lose control and the bet.

“I gotta go, Paul!” Gene blurted out as he dropped his fork and knife on his plate abruptly.

“Wah!? Where are you going!?” Paul cried out in surprise, pulling himself to an upward position.

“Rehearsal!” Gene called out as he ran to the door. He couldn’t bear to look Paul in the eyes right now.

“But we don’t have rehearsals for another four hours!” Paul whined from the other room.

“I’ll…uh…I’ll make it up to you, I promise. I’ll take you to dinner at your favorite restaurant tonight,” Gene said right before shutting the door.  
…

Peter was snuggled up in his bed. He was having a vivid dream of him and Ace making out in Central Park. Their limbs were intertwined as Peter was laying back on the soft green grass gazing into Ace’s sparkling brown eyes.

“Ace,” Peter sighed as he stroked Ace’s hair gently.

Ace grinned as his kissed down to Peter’s throat giving it a playful nip while grinding his hips into Peter.

“Mmmm…yes baby like that,” Peter moaned in approval, loving the friction between them.

“Yeah? You want me to do more of this?” Ace grinned, continuing to dry hump Peter while biting gently into his neck.

“Yeah…that’s the kinda sugar papa likes,” Peter moaned in approval.

Ace’s hands moved down to the front of Peter’s pants and began massaging the growing arousal down there.

“Oh Ace! Gimmie more…”

He could feel Ace pulling his pants down; his gentle kisses going further down and down…

Peter’s eyes snapped open. He wasn’t in Central Park! He was in his bedroom! He looked down and there straddling him was a wildly grinning Ace.

“Ack! Hiya Curly!” Ace squawked, rubbing his hand against Peter’s swollen spoiler.

“Oh my God!” Peter screamed as he wretched himself from Ace’s grasp, nearly losing control of himself in the process.

Ace cackled at Peter’s spazzy antics.

“Where’s the fire? Rehearsals aren’t for another hour. We got time…”

Ace laid back onto the bed with intense bedroom eyes, biting his bottom lip provocatively. Peter hungrily leered up and down Ace’s awaiting body. There was something a bit different about his lover this morning. His porcelain skin radiated a soft glow while his eyes shimmered like stars in the moonlight. Peter was about to speak until he caught a whiff of a strong sandalwood odor.

“Uh, are you wearing cologne or something?” Peter asked, inhaling the air more intensely.

Ace giggled, shaking his head from side to side, “No…”

The smell overwhelmed Peter’s senses, rendering him dizzy. It reminded him of those incenses that would burn in a psychedelic record store.

Ace grinned seductively as he arose from the bed, slinking his way over to a stunned Peter. Ace caressed his fingertips softly down Peter’s chest. The gentle caresses sent tiny electrical surges through Peter’s system. These shocks went straight down to his more sensitive area.

Peter gasped, pulling himself away from Ace abruptly, running into the nearby bathroom, and slamming the door shut in the process. He could hear Ace cackling like a madman on the other side.

 _Damn him for being so hot!_ Peter thought as he tried to steady his breathing. He was so painfully hard, it hurt! What he would give to just get off right now! Peter groaned as he turned the cold shower water on. As he was stripping off his pajamas, he toyed with the idea of just giving in and running back out there to Ace. He was seriously considering it until the image of Gene’s prideful smirk supplanted into his mind.

Peter clenched his fists at the thought of that bastard getting what he wanted like always! No, he was determined to tough this one out. He would prove himself a force to be reckoned with to Gene once and for all. But there was something odd about Ace that kept bugging him.

“Argh! Fuck!” Peter screamed as his warm body made contact with the icy cold water, forcing him to forget all about Ace’s strange behavior.  
…

Rehearsals were a success. Paul’s vocals were as powerful as they were in the 70s with Peter, Ace and Gene effectively nailing note for note. It was as if the original four had never stopped playing together as one cohesive unit. Everyone did so well that Paul made sure to compliment Ace and Peter especially. The hottest band in the world was back and better than ever!

Paul and Ace went to go hit the showers afterward, leaving Peter and Gene to cool off in one of the backrooms.

“Gene, there’s a reporter and cameraman in Room B that’s here for the interview,” Doc replied from the door way.

“Interview? I thought that was scheduled for tomorrow,” Gene replied flabbergasted. He had gone over his weekly schedule meticulously and did not remember seeing an interview for today.

“I know, but something came up in their schedule, and they wanted to see if you could do the interview now. I gave them no promises but said I would run it by you first,” Doc assured, choosing his words carefully as to not piss Gene off.

Gene snorted at the nerve of those journalists. Gene Simmons accommodated no one UNLESS money was involved. As much as he loved attention, his ego convinced him that if those journalists wanted to talk to him bad enough then they would accommodate him, not the other way around!

“No. We agreed on tomorrow and that’s final. If they can’t honor that commitment then that’s poor business on their end,” Gene scoffed, waving Doc off.

“Man, life is good!” Peter grinned like a smug cat that had just caught a canary as he stretched back into his seat.

Gene arched his eyebrow in suspicion as he turned his attention to Peter. “You seem awfully chipper for someone that hasn’t been laid today unless there’s something you’re not telling me...”

Peter smirked. “Sorry to disappoint you but I’m still in the game. You forget I was married to Lydia for years. I can abstain from sex for a long period of time.”

“Since when?” Gene asked half amused.

He was mildly annoyed that Peter hadn’t succumbed to carnal temptation yet. Hell, he was expecting his weak-willed drummer to give up by breakfast. The fact Peter lasted this long was a shock, but Gene knew not to sweat it just yet. He would just have to be patient for a little bit longer.

“Clearly you haven’t gotten any today. What’s the matter, Gene? Pressure getting to you?” Peter taunted, sitting up in his seat to size Gene up.

“I am always in control, Peter. I am the king on this throne,” Gene replied arrogantly, taking a sip from his water.

“Gene, I’m ready to go,” Paul announced, entering the room.

Gene turned around and damn near did a spit take. Paul was dressed in a sleek buttoned down deep purple top, teasing lucky viewers with an ample view of his perfectly chiseled hairy chest complimented with tight leather pants that framed his tight ass just right. He stood propped up against the door with a seductive smile that could melt anyone’s heart. Gene couldn’t himself as he leered up and down Paul’s body.

Peter noticed this and just couldn’t help himself. “Still in control, your highness?” he taunted.

“Where are we going?” Gene asked, trying to ignore Peter’s jabs.

“You promised to take me out to dinner tonight, remember?” Paul pouted, sashaying his way over to Gene.

Those hypnotic hips kept swaying back and forth in the demon’s perverted mind. Paul sat on Gene’s lap, wrapping his arms around Gene’s neck, leaning close to his ear.

“Or we could just go back to my place for dessert since you can’t stop checking me out,” he whispered seductively, rubbing a little circle on Gene’s chest with his index finger.

 _Oh God_ Gene thought in panic. His temperature was rising as well as another area. Peter was snickering uncontrollably. He was so close to winning this bet, he could almost taste it.

Gene groaned as he lightly pushed Paul up.

“Actually, I can’t…I have an interview to do.”

“What!? But you promised! Gene, I’ve already made the reservations! You better reschedule that interview!” Paul growled, giving Gene a very stern look.

“Doc! Tell the reporter I’ll do the interview! I just need about two hours to apply the greasepaint. Tell Cindy to get the makeup and wardrobe ready!” Gene called out from the hallway as he raced to get out of that room in lightning speed.  
…

“Mr. Simmons, we cannot thank you enough for accommodating us,” said the reporter as he eagerly shook Gene’s hand.

“Yeah, Yeah. You’re lucky. I had a last-minute cancellation in my schedule. Will this take long?” Gene grumbled, not bothering to look the reporter in the eye.

A couple of the KISS crew members, Doc and Tommy were chatting quietly amongst themselves in the background while the reporter and cameraman went over the interview logistics with Gene. A few minutes later, Paul had strutted his way into the room. Gene watched as Paul boldly took a seat a few feet across from him with a mischievous grin plastered upon his face. Gene quickly averted his gaze back to the reporter, pretending to be more interested in the redundant commentary. A part of him knew he was in trouble…

“Mr. Stanley!” the reporter cheered, noticing Paul was sitting a few feet away from him. “I didn’t think we’d get the opportunity to interview you too!”

“Uhhh, yeah, Paul, why don’t you come up and talk about the upcoming tour?” Gene offered, desperately trying to hide his nervousness from everyone in the room.

Paul held his hand up in the air. “Oh no, he’s all yours. I’m only here to casually observe. Please make sure I’m out of the shot,” he replied innocently.

Gene knew Paul’s vindictive nature when he was up to something and judging by his tone of voice, Paul was indeed up to something. He knew running out on Paul like that would cause repercussions. Paul sought revenge whenever he didn’t get his way. Gene had turned him down twice today; he was playing with fire.

“Oh no, Paul, it’s fine! I insist,” Gene offered again, waving his hand for Paul to come over beside him.

“Oh no, Gene. I insist.” A wicked toothy grin blossomed across Paul’s face.

Gene swallowed. Paul’s response sent chills down his spine.

“We are here with Gene Simmons from KISS! After more than a decade later, the legendary band is putting back on their makeup and reuniting with founding bandmembers, Peter Criss and Ace Frehley for the Reunion Tour. Gene, what made you decide to put the iconic KISS makeup back on?” the reporter asked excitedly, offering Gene the mic.

Gene rolled his eyes. Typical. It was yet another snowball question that’s already been asked to death by all the major media outlets. This was going to be another easy, no-brainer interview…

“KISS has always—”

Gene paused when he heard the crinkling sound of wrapping paper. His eyes glanced over to the source of the noise; Paul was taking a popsicle out of its wrapper. Gene narrowed his eyes in suspicion. What the hell was he up to? Paul smirked, putting the frozen treat up to his lips. He flickered his tongue over the tip of the popsicle teasingly. Gene averted his eyes back to the reporter, ignoring Paul’s presence.

“KISS has always been about—”

Sluuuuuuuuuurp!

“The fans. What they want.”

Smaaaaaaaaaaaack!

“They get.”

Suuuuuuuuuuuuck!

“We lick for our fans. They are our bosses,” Gene said proudly, pointing into the camera for emphasis.

The reporter blinked in confusion. “I beg your pardon?”

Gene winced, realizing his verbal slip up. “We WORK for our fans,” he hastily corrected before glaring at the cameraman threateningly, “You better edit that out!”

Paul was snickering. Gene knew damn well that he was doing all this on purpose to get under his skin and make him lose focus!

The bassist huffed, glaring at him in annoyance. The frontman gave a lopsided grin before swirling the red popsicle back and forth over his juicy lips. Paul took the popsicle in his mouth and pulled it back out again very slowly. He did it again. And again.

“Gene!”

He could hear the reporter calling his name over and over again, snapping him back to reality.

“W...what was the question?” Gene asked dazed, turning his attention back to the flustered reporter.

“I was asking if you could show us that famous tongue?”

Gene scoffed, composing himself back into pretentious Rockstar mode. “Well…you see I would but the floor is too dirty.”

Suuuck! Suuuck! Suuuuuuuuuck!

Gene knew better but temptation got the better of him as he glanced up at Paul. With a wicked grin, Paul curled his tongue up over the top, down the sides and then back up again before he finally went back to going down on the popsicle again.

At some point, Gene’s jaw dropped, freeing his long tongue. He could barely hear the "ooohs and ahs" from the reporter over his tongue as his focus was solely on Paul’s lips. He followed the in and out motion of the popsicle with his eyes hungrily. That damn popsicle was getting better treatment than he was! Gene felt himself start to harden at the sight.  
He had to ignore it and focus. There was no way he would let Paul win at his little vindictive game. Gene closed his eyes tightly to block out the provocative images. The reporter went on to ask if the original four members were going to release a new album.

Smaaaaaaaack!

Every vulgar suck, slurp and smack were getting louder in Gene’s mind.

“We don’t have any plans—”

“Sluuuuuuuuurp!

Gene was starting to sweat. How much longer was this interview going to last?

“At this moment in time.”

“Suuuuuuuuuuuuck!”

“We’re just trying to focus on sucking each other...errr...touring with each other! Damnit! Turn that camera off! Gene shouted angrily.

“Gene, what’s wrong?” Doc asked, overhearing Gene’s outburst from across the room.

“I WANT EVERYBODY OUT OF THIS ROOM NOW! YOU’RE ALL DISTRACTING ME!” Gene raged, causing Doc, Tommy and the crew to quickly scatter out of the room without hesitation.

Paul remained in his seat, sucking on his popsicle, looking up at Gene with big, innocent doe eyes.

“That goes especially for you, Stanley!” Gene growled, pulling Paul up by arm to escort him out of the room.

Paul pulled the popsicle out of his mouth with a loud ‘pop.’

“What did I do?” he asked, battling his eyelashes sweetly at Gene.

“You know exactly what you’re doing with that damn popsicle!” Gene barked, lightly shoving Paul out of the room.

With a devious smirk, Paul leaned in to whisper, “Yes, I do, and I can do it to you much better.” Gene sighed when Paul licked up his throat playfully. “And if you don’t cancel that interview and take me out to dinner this instant, you’re really going to get it,” he cooed threateningly, brushing his hand against Gene’s straining erection.

“Come on, Gene…You know you want me.”

With a frustrated grunt, Gene pulled away from Paul’s embrace and shut the door. Paul’s over dramatic huff could be heard on the other side.

“Mr. Simmons, should we come back at another time?” the reporter asked timidly.

“No, I’m fine! Just give me a minute and we’ll start the interview over,” Gene sighed, trying to regain his composure.

Paul really knew how to push his buttons. It was only day one and things were starting to get tense.  
…

Peter was washing dishes in his kitchen as a distraction. His adrenaline was through the roof after today’s successful rehearsal, and he needed release desperately. The drummer had spent the remaining afternoon in the gym, hoping to burn off the excess energy there. Working out did help a bit, but Peter found himself still restless. Idle hands are the devil’s workshop, his grandmother used to tell him. The more Peter kept busy, the less he thought about sex and drugs. When Peter reached for another dirty dish, he noticed Ace was standing a few feet away from him, staring him down in an unsettling manner. Peter did his best to ignore his lover’s presence as he pretended to focus on scrubbing away the pesky sauce stain left on his ex-wife’s porcelain dinner plate.

Peter felt his muscles go lax when Ace’s arms wrapped around him. A sense of warmth washed over Peter’s body as his eyes rolled into the back of his head in euphoria. He wanted to submit to the safety and comfort of his lover’s arms then and there. Unfortunately, the lingering reminder of the bet beckoned Peter from his sweet fantasy.

“Ace, man. Knock it off! I’m not in the mood,” Peter grumbled, shoving Ace off gently.

It wasn’t true. He resented having to deny himself such sweet pleasure, but it would all be worth it in the end. He just had to keep reminding himself about the money.

“Peter…”Ace whined, nuzzling his face against Peter’s back.

Peter tensed at the loving touch. What the hell was with Ace lately? Ever since this morning, Ace had been extremely clingy. It was very much unlike his character. Peter tried to act disinterested around him, but his spaced-out lover wasn’t taking the hint.

“Ace! For the last time, not tonight! I’m tired…” Peter growled, scrubbing the plate more furiously. He paused when he caught another whiff of that strong sandalwood scent from earlier today. “What in tha!? Are you burning incense or something!?”

“Peter…do you know what today is?”

“Monday. Whatistoya?” Peter snorted, rinsing the soap residue off the plate. “Look, Ace, if you’re gonna stand around at least make yourself useful, grab a towel and help dry these damn dishes!”

“I’m in heat,” Ace rasped.

At that Peter dropped the expensive plate in the kitchen sink with a loud crash. His eyes went wide when he noticed the full moon illuminating from the kitchen window. Apparently, Ace went into some sort of Jendell heat during the span of the Earth’s full moon cycle. It was one of the many Jendellian alien quirks he claimed to have. Peter figured most of Ace’s Jendell talk was bullshit, but the heat cycle seemed to be on point. Ace always did seem to become more sexually insatiable during the full moon.

Peter turned around to face Ace hesitantly. The Spaceman’s pupils were full blown dilated, and the scent of sandalwood was heavily intoxicating. How did he not notice this sooner? The signs were all there. No wonder Ace was being so clingy today.

“Peter, do you remember the last time I went into heat? We were holed up in that luxury hotel in New York. You were practically begging me to own you. For four whole days, I had you pinned down on that King-sized bed making you scream until your voice was hoarse, not stopping until you blacked out from the orgasms. You were mine...all mine,” His voice oozed desire while his pitch-black eyes twinkled mischievously.

Peter’s breath hitched. He remembered those four nights all too well. It was some of the best sex he had ever had with Ace. He could still envision his legs hooked around Ace’s waist; their hips were rocking to a slick rhythm. Ace was biting down on Peter’s lower lip aggressively right before sucking on the tender flesh. Peter was digging his nails into Ace’s shoulder just before he climaxed.

In panic a flushed and very erect Peter ran out of the kitchen, leaving a perplexed Ace standing there.

“Peter? Are we playing a game? Oh! I love kinky sex games! Whatever room I tag you in, that’s where we’re gonna do it, OK?” Ace called out, running after Peter.

“Stay the fuck away from me, Ace!” Peter screamed out, craning his neck back to see Ace only a few feet away from him.

Peter Criss had taken on rogue thugs in the back alleyways in Brooklyn with nothing but a pocket knife and foolhardiness for protection, but it was a horny Jendellian that had the big bad Brooklyn boy reduced to a scurrying scaredy cat. The bathroom was not too far away, if he could just move a little bit faster…

“I’m gonna getchya, kitty,” Ace panted, extending his long arms out to grab Peter.

“Damnit Ace! I’m not playing!”

Barely dodging Ace’s grip, Peter ducked into the bathroom, slamming the door shut and locking it. Ace tried unsuccessfully to open the locked door a few times.

“Peter? How are we supposed to play if you’ve locked the door!?” Ace laughed, knocking loudly on the other side.

Peter groaned, stripping off his clothes, freeing his massive hardened cock from confinement. He tried tuning out Ace’s persistent knocks and pleas as he plunged himself head first into the icy cold shower water, cursing in agony. Once Peter had finally cooled off, he wrapped himself in a towel and curled up in the corner.

Ace was still howling for Peter to come out and play with him. He was convinced the coy Catman was just playing hard to get. His velvety soft voice caressed Peter’s mind with promises of sinful pleasure. A pleasure Peter would gladly give up his most prized earthly possessions to have right about now. He knew he couldn’t risk going back out there. His beautiful lover was already hard to resist in general, but his animal magnetism was ten times stronger in heat. Unfortunately, Ace wouldn’t be able to settle down until sunrise.  
With a frustrated sigh, Peter tried to make himself as comfortable as possible.

It was going to be a long night.


End file.
